You Don't Bring Me Flowers
by LilyIsAwesomerThanYou
Summary: "I learned how to laugh and I learned how to cry. . . Well, you'd think I could learn how to tell you good-bye." Four years was all it took for their perfect marriage to fall apart. Can it be put back together?
1. Chapter 1

**A fic inspired by Neil Diamond's "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" and the recent death of our beloved Alan Rickman. He will be dearly missed. /3**

 **This was originally supposed to be a one-shot but it turned into a multi-chapter. So, seeing as I have no ability to plan anything, we'll see how this goes. :)**

 **As always, I don't own Harry Potter. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

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You Don't Bring Me Flowers

A decidedly sick feeling settled in Hermione's stomach as she heard the front door click shut quietly behind her husband. She heard the squelching of his dragonhide boots on the stone floor, the sound of tiny drops of water hitting the ground reaching her ears.

Knowing he was coming in from the rain, where he was most likely collecting ingredients or stalking after misbehaving students, she paused her reading to wave her wand and put the kettle on. Another flick toward the fire caused it to grow and crackle loudly, increasing the warmth of the room immediately.

Sufficiently dried from a couple of charms, Severus Snape made his way toward the kitchen, barely brushing his fingers across the back of the couch in some sort of greeting, and poured himself a cup of tea before pausing.

"Tea?" His deep voice broke the silence smoothly.

Her head perked up. "Please."

He poured another cup and approached the couch quietly, setting the steaming cup beside her elbow. She murmured her thanks and he moved to stand before the fire for a few moments to warm himself before disappearing down the hall toward the lab and their bedroom.

Hermione let out a breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding as the door down the hall clicked shut. A sip of the tea that her husband had left her scalded her mouth and she set the mug down harshly on the table, a bit of the hot liquid splashing onto the wood.

 _Four years._ Four years of laughter, tears, love songs, flowers, and everything Hermione had never expected from the sullen, bitter man who had insulted and berated her throughout most of her schooling at the castle. And now, she didn't know what had happened. Suddenly, he was out of her reach. He didn't come back from Hogsmeade with roses anymore – coral when he wanted her, red and yellow when he was happy and wanted to share it with her, pink when she doubted him, white when he asked her to marry him, red for every occasion in between. He used to go out of his way to do things for her: get up early to make her breakfast in the morning; clean the kitchen by hand because he knew she always thought it was a little bit cleaner that way; leave a rose on the pillow when he had to leave early in the morning, just so she knew he was thinking about her. Yes, now he offered her tea, but only because he was getting a cup himself and because he felt bad only helping himself to a kettle that she had put on for him. And sure, he didn't completely ignore her, but the knife in her gut twisted brutally either way.

Four years of marriage and suddenly Hermione couldn't look past the fact that her husband, Severus Snape, resident Potion's Master and love of her life, maybe didn't love her so much anymore. After all, she was a Gryffindor, she was a know-it-all, she had seen him in his weakest moment when he had almost died in the Shrieking Shack – he had more than a few reasons to cast her off without a second glance. And besides, she had always known that he was in love with Lily Potter. She could hardly expect him to love her more than the girl he had grown up with. But she couldn't bear to entertain that thought in her head, so she took another hard gulp of tea and returned to her book, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

But in the back of her mind, she couldn't help remembering the times that he would pull her into his arms on the couch after work, tugging the thick book out of her hands so that he could read it to her, his velvety tone tickling her ear and soothing her every worry. The times that he would slip into their quarters between classes just to carry her down the hall to their bedroom. The times that they would lay on the rug in front of the fire and talk about the future – little bushy-haired children running around their home and getting into trouble. The times that he would lean in and kiss her cheek or brush her hair away from her face or link his fingers in hers because they couldn't stand to be disconnected for too long.

But that didn't happen anymore.

oOoOo

Severus stopped liquefying the leeches that he had collected from a small pond in the Forbidden Forest as he heard the mug slam harshly against the table in the living room. A choking cough reached his ears through the closed door to his lab, and he almost smiled at the sound. His wife's ability to sound cute even when she was choking on hot tea amazed him. He briefly considered poking his head out the door to see if she was okay, but instead turned back to the messy job at hand. She probably wouldn't welcome the interruption from her reading anyway.

A slight scowl marred Severus's face as he crushed the leech on the table with slightly more force than was necessary. There had been a day when his wife would have dropped her book immediately if he had merely called her name. Now, he got a distracted nod, an exasperated "Severus," or a half-interested glance in response.

Moving on to an ingredient that would require him to focus more, he pulled out a bag of black beetles and carefully began removing their eyes and placing them in a small jar. His frustration would have to deal with itself for the time being.

Two years of dating, four years of marriage. That was all the time that it had taken for the young Gryffindor princess and the brightest witch of her age to fall out of love with the bitter Death Eater, the greasy bat of the dungeons. He figured it was almost impressive that she had even lasted that long. Usually he scared people off within ten minutes of their meeting.

He figured it had all begun when the trial had finally come before the Wizengamot a couple years ago, when the full extent of his sins had been put on display for all to see. She had sat beside him throughout the painful event, holding his hand and rubbing his leg for support, but he had felt her stiffen against him and her hand tighten in his as the Chief Warlock read off some of his more grievous offenses. He had been terrified of losing her then, of losing her support through the aftermath of the War, but she had stuck with him through it all, including the year and a half of house arrest – or rather, castle arrest – that he had been placed on.

From there, he assumed it had all been downhill. He tried his best, but he was not an easy man to live with, and he figured it really only could be so long until she ran – maybe even into the arms of another man. Perhaps someone better, someone who had never been bitter or had questionable alliances or got jealous and angry easily.

A tentative knock interrupted his musing. "Enter." His voice was gruff.

The door opened quietly and Hermione poked her head around to look at him. He paused his enucleation of the beetle in his hand and raised a dark brow expectantly.

"I'm going to head to the Burrow for a bit to visit Ron, if that's okay with you. Maybe Harry and Ginny will stop by too with baby James!" Hermione looked excited at the thought, ignoring Severus' scowl at the name of Potter's son. "Severus, you're crushing that poor beetle."

He dropped the beetle back onto the table immediately, his eyes dropping to discern whether he had damaged the eye as well. "Very well. I shall be in here for a while as it is."

A smile lit up his wife's face. "Perfect! I'll be back in time for dinner." With another blinding smile, she was dashing back toward the living room. He heard the Floo whisk her away, and just like that, he was alone.

 _Ron Weasley._ Exactly the kind of man he figured she would go for.

He brought his hand down onto the tiny dead beetle on the table, crushing it under his fist. Ronald Weasley did _not_ get to steal his wife. Ronald Weasley did not get to take away the one thing in his life that brought him love, laughter, and the greatest happiness he had ever known. Severus Snape was nothing if not a fighter, and he would fight for the love of his wife. He would fight, and he would win.

So when Hermione stumbled through the Floo two hours later with a fruit basket almost larger than herself, Severus knew what he had to do.

Two could play at that game. As far as he was concerned, this was war.

oOoOo

The next day, Hermione came home to no husband. Which was surprising, since she had been up late in the library researching into a new Transfiguration topic that she potentially wanted to broach with her NEWT-level students.

She felt dread and acceptance wrap their cold fingers around her spine as she figured that the day had finally come. She was sure that she would find the note later – if he had even bothered to write one – stashed in her make-up bag or on top of her pillow, but for now she needed comfort. So she numbly lit a fire in the grate and grabbed a box of candied pineapple from the fruit basket Mrs. Weasley had sent to binge eat on the rug. A quick letter owled to Harry and Ron had her best friends sitting on the rug in front of her, offering reassurance around bites of candied pineapple slices.

"He's a git, 'Mione," Ron offered, sugar ringing his lips. "We've been telling you from the very beginning. No one changes that much; trust me."

"I know, Ron, but he did. Or at least, it seemed that he did." Hermione stuck a whole pineapple slice into her mouth as the first tear slipped down her cheek and dripped onto the rug. "I thought that we had it all figured out, but – but then he was distant, and now we're – now he's –"

Harry conjured a box of tissues and slid closer to her, wrapping an arm tightly around her and pulling her against his side.

"I know what would make you feel better," Harry announced suddenly, sharing a hopeful glance with Ron. " _Butterbeer._ "

Hermione's bitter scoff surprised the boys. "I think this calls for something a bit stronger." She stood and pulled a nearly-full bottle of firewhiskey from the glass cabinet in the dining room. Holding it up with a sad smile, she grabbed three glasses and returned to the living room floor where her boys were waiting for her.

Several glasses of the liquor had her hardly even thinking about her absent husband anymore. Harry and Ron were playing an intense game of chess on the rug, both nearly as inebriated as she was herself.

"Nope, Harry," she slurred, pointing at his bishop standing alone in the middle of the board. "Wrong move."

Ron was grinning slyly as Harry protested. "No, 'Mione, look! My bishop is going to – _damn!_ " He watched as Ron's knight promptly captured his poor bishop.

Hermione poured another glass of firewhiskey and offered one to Harry as well. He accepted it and took a long gulp, mourning the loss of his piece.

One more careless move by Harry had Ron grinning openly as he moved his queen into position. "Checkmate."

"Damn you, Weasley. I defeated Voldemort. This loss means nothing," Harry spat drunkenly, his eyes sparkling in amusement as he took another sip of alcohol.

Hermione laughed openly, and both of the boys gave her a surprised but happy look.

"That's right. Forget about him. He's not worth it!" Ron encouraged, packing up his chessboard for the night.

Harry stood up. "Let's get you into bed, Hermione. It's going to be okay. I promise." He led her down the hall to her bedroom and helped her remove her shoes and outer robes before tucking her down into the large bed. He kissed her on the forehead and quietly shut the door behind him as he returned to the living room and back home.

In her bedroom, Hermione's head was swimming with the amount of firewhiskey coursing through her system. But even through her drunken haze, she recognized that there had been no note. No note in the kitchen, no note on her pillow. That was a good sign, right?

She certainly hoped so.

* * *

 **Let me know what you thought. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here's Chapter 2! Enjoy :)**

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Chapter 2

The next morning, Hermione awoke to a bed that seemed even colder and emptier than it had the night before. She rolled out of bed with a groan at the nausea that rose up within her at the movement, and she rushed to the bathroom to empty her stomach into the toilet. She straightened to examine her face in the mirror and groaned again at her pale face and the bruise-like smudges under her eyes. It was going to be a long day.

A quick potion for hangovers and a bit of makeup to conceal most of her sickly appearance had Hermione in the Great Hall for breakfast as usual, tentatively eating pancakes as she chatted a bit with Minerva, who had taken over as Headmistress after the war, about her classes for the day. The seat beside her remained empty for the meal, a constant reminder of the previous day, and after a short time, she removed herself from breakfast to spend some time alone in the library to think before classes began.

The wind howled outside the windows of the Transfiguration classroom later that afternoon as Hermione taught her third year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students how to transfigure a teapot into a tortoise. So far, no one had been able to manage the task that had been part of Hermione's own third year Transfiguration exam. She almost smiled as she thought of the frustration that she had caused her fellow classmates by wondering whether her tortoise looked a bit more like a turtle.

"Mr. Waterman," she called to one of her brightest Ravenclaw students as the class filed out of the room at the end of the lesson. His friends lingered at the door as the boy approached her desk obediently. "Go on, boys. He'll be right behind you."

As the three Ravenclaw boys left the room, Chase Waterman gave her a slightly bewildered look. He piped up, "Yes, Professor?"

Hermione sighed quietly and ran a hand through her bushy hair. "Do you know if Potions classes are being held today?"

The boy shot her another confused look as he replied slowly, "No, the note on the door said that Professor Snape was out and wouldn't be holding classes today. Professor Sprout cancelled her classes too, because of the blizzard and all. Wouldn't you know about Potions though, since you're –"

"Of course," Hermione lied smoothly. "Professor Snape isn't feeling very well today and I wanted to check to make sure that he wasn't sneaking out on me and teaching his classes anyway." She threw in a smile as well to make her lie look convincing.

"Of course," the Ravenclaw echoed, returning the smile awkwardly and clutching his textbook to his chest a little bit tighter. Hermione dismissed him with a wave of her hand and he scurried out the door in pursuit of his friends.

As soon as he was gone and the door was shut behind him, Hermione buried her face into her hands. The silence in the classroom over the next few hours was broken only by the sound of windowpanes rattling in response to the blizzard raging outside the castle.

oOoOo

The next few days passed in a similar fashion. Hermione woke up, made herself presentable, taught her classes, and retreated to her quarters to curl up on the couch with a tall glass of firewhiskey and a thick book to take her mind off Severus. Her husband was still missing, but she was at least reassured that he had yet to contact her to arrange a time to gather his clothing and belongings and that his classes were still cancelled, meaning he wasn't in the castle and just blatantly ignoring her.

Minerva was also confused about his absence, and had appeared at Hermione's door the first night to see if anything was wrong. Hermione had been completely honest and imparted her lack of knowledge about Severus' whereabouts and her painful suspicion that he had walked out on her. Hermione had been good about keeping her emotions under control until the usually strict Headmistress had pulled her into a tight hug.

The woman had appeared at her door without fail over the last few nights, even if just to take a seat in the armchair next to the fire and bury her nose in a thick Transfiguration tome. So when the knock sounded on the door that night, Hermione already had a glass of fine elf-made wine sitting on the table waiting.

Like the last few nights, Minerva gratefully accepted the wine and began reading in the armchair. After a few minutes, however, she marked her page and looked up.

"Have you heard . . . anything, my dear?" the older witch asked gently, hesitantly. When Hermione clenched her jaw and shook her head, fingers tightening slightly on the glass of alcohol, Minerva pressed on, "The students are beginning to ask what has happened."

Hermione finally looked up, her eyes beginning to shine softly in the reflection of the firelight. "I've been telling them that he's sick, and that he'll return when he feels better."

Minerva nodded thoughtfully. "I figured that was the likely story. I'm really not so worried about his return. I'm a lot more worried about you, Hermione. How are you holding up?"

"I'm managing, I think," Hermione answered honestly, closing her book and setting it beside her on the couch. She took a quick sip of firewhiskey. "I keep waiting for him to show up and demand back his things or even just ask for his ring back, but he never does." She twirled the ring on her finger absentmindedly.

"Have you thought about possibly reaching out to him instead? Surely you want to know he's safe?"

"Of course I do. I can't stop thinking about where he is – what he's doing. And maybe I'm being a bit too proud, but I won't be the one to break the silence. _He_ left. _He_ walked out. And I'm just left here thinking about what I should have done differently that would have made him stay." Another sip of firewhiskey.

Minerva looked into the fire and took a sip of wine herself. "Maybe it's all just a big misunderstanding, Hermione. Severus certainly is sullen and brooding much of the time, but he is also fiercely loyal. This doesn't make any sense to me, and I'm sure it makes even less sense to you."

Hermione began crying softly as she mumbled, "I think he finally got over me. He finally got up the nerve to leave. And I'm just left here feeling so – so _heartbroken._ " She sobbed quietly.

The Headmistress stood from the armchair and resettled beside Hermione on the couch, rubbing the crying girl's back soothingly. "I know, I know," she murmured. "I know how it feels, like someone's reached in and rearranged your insides all wrong. And you feel so broken inside, so ready to fall apart at any moment."

Hermione was sobbing so hard that she was taking deep, gasping breaths, tears running unchecked down her face. "It feels like I can't breathe all the time, like a weight has been put on my chest and is crushing my lungs. _I can't breathe_ without him here. He's my air, Minerva, _my air_."

"I know, dear, I know. Just keep talking to me." She pulled Hermione's head into her lap and began stroking her hair.

"I don't know how to do this without him," Hermione choked out, her heaving sobs interrupting her words.

Minerva continued stroking Hermione's hair soothingly and silently cursed Severus Snape with all of her being.

oOoOo

The next day, the winter storm finally started to abate. The winds – although still strong – had decreased their intensity, and the snow was building up slower than it had been over the last few days. Professor Sprout had immediately jumped on the opportunity to resume her Herbology classes, and now was planning classes wherever she could fit them – even on a Saturday – in an attempt to catch her students up on the four days of missed class.

When Minerva left that night after their new evening routine, Hermione had consumed just enough firewhiskey to make her a little bit tipsy. She returned her glass to the kitchen, where she was sure the house elves would clean it at some point during the night. She grabbed a small apple and some crackers to enjoy on the sofa before bed.

However, just before she reached her usual seat on the sofa, the door to her quarters opened with a bang. Startled, she spun around to find her husband standing in the doorway, looking a bit worse for wear. The greasy hair that usually fell neatly around his face was windswept and chaotic, half-frozen and sticking out at odd angles. Bits of snow still rested atop his hair and in his eyebrows, slowly melting. Even his normally impeccable robes were rumpled slightly. He certainly had the appearance of a man who had just ventured through a blizzard.

"Severus?" Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper as she stared across the room at her prodigal husband. "I thought – I thought –"

Severus had yet to respond but rather reached into his robes and revealed a bouquet of twelve yellow roses, looking a bit smashed and worn themselves. Even as he held them, a few perfect yellow petals drifting to the floor by Severus' feet.

"Twelve . . ." – an entire rosebud detached from its stem and landed with a soft thud on the toe of the Potions Master's icy boot – "pardon, eleven roses for the lovely Mrs. Snape."

Hermione stared for one long moment before she felt something snap dangerously within her. Her voice was high and breathy when she hissed, "You run off to Merlin-knows-where for _four days_ and the best you can do is return with some _flowers_? Who do you think you are – disappearing without a trace, without a note, without _anything_?"

The flowers were quickly thrust onto the countertop as Severus raised his hands in a display of innocence. "Wait, Hermione, I can explain – "

"Explain, my arse. I think your behavior explained enough. I have been sitting here for days, wondering where you are, who you're with, if you're safe. Do you have any idea what this was like for me? I was making excuses for you to Minerva and all of your students for the cancelled classes. And you come back here with – "

Severus cut across her quickly, his voice rising authoritatively. "I was in _The Three Broomsticks_. I wasn't off in London taking a _holiday_ from you like you seem to have gotten it in your brilliant mind!"

"Oh, so you were with Rosmerta, as if that makes it any better? Good to know you're getting it on with someone right down the road whenever you're tired of me," Hermione sneered, tears beginning to blur her vision. She had been right all along.

" _Rosmerta?_ " Severus asked incredulously, seeming almost hurt. "You think I'm cheating on you with _Rosmerta_? How could you think so little of me?"

Hermione looked unimpressed. "Well, she's pretty and flirty, not to mention doesn't bore you or irritate you with her Gryffindor tendencies daily. I wouldn't be surprised if she left her bedroom door unlocked at night either, if you know what I mean."

"I can't even fathom . . ." Severus trailed off, pausing for a moment. His voice was angry when he continued, "I went down to Hogsmeade to buy you flowers, Hermione! Not expecting the blizzard that hit that afternoon, I was forced to stay there in The Three Broomsticks until the storm lessened and I could make my way back to the castle. How dare you accuse me of arranging a trip away from the castle so that I could _sleep with another woman!_ "

"Oh, no, Severus, you don't get to make some half-assed excuse for why you were stuck in Hogsmeade when I know very well that Rosmerta has a fully functioning Floo in her bar!"

"Perhaps it was fully functioning in the past, but I assure you it was broken when I was there. Rosmerta had arranged for it to be fixed Tuesday afternoon, but they were delayed by the blizzard. Besides, you should also know that you aren't able to just Floo into the castle from wherever you like. There are _wards_." His words were stern and taking on an almost condescending edge that raised Hermione's ire.

"And an _owl?!_ " she shrieked, sounding very much like an owl as tears began to slip down her cheeks.

"I was not about to send an owl to the castle in that storm. As someone who advocated for better treatment of house elves, I had hoped that you would approve. And I do apologize for apparently misplacing my faith in the fact that my wife trusted me." His scowl was deep enough to disfigure his features.

Hermione backed away from him, stumbling slightly as she was hit by the full force of the alcohol she had consumed earlier that evening and the fight they were having.

Severus scoffed. "Are you drunk?"

She approached him quickly and angrily, getting as much in his face as their height difference would allow and jabbing a finger into his chest. She could feel the slight dampness of his shirt from the snow and the small shivers that ran through his body from the cold.

" _You. Don't. Get. To. Do. This._ Do you understand me? You don't get to do this to me – to mock me and blame this whole incident on me. Because _you left._ I'm the one who sat here in _our home_ and waited for you to come back for four whole days while thinking the entire time that you had finally gotten sick of me and left, okay? So you don't get to blame this on me. Not this time." Hermione was sobbing for the second night in a row, and she swiftly turned away to wipe her tears.

"You thought I left you?"

"What would you have thought? If you were in my situation? _What would you have thought?_ "

Severus was silent as she paced the living room frantically, only speaking up when she finally seemed to make up her mind and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle.

"Where are you going?" His voice was quiet this time, resigned.

"Away. I can't do this with you. Not right now. So I need to go away." She threw the powder into the fire and yelled, " _The Burrow!_ "

She was gone in a flash of green, leaving Severus standing alone in the kitchen with eleven yellow flowers.*

* * *

*Yellow flowers symbolize caring but also jealousy, and a bouquet of eleven roses shows that the receiver is truly and deeply loved

 **A bit more drama for you all.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Experienced my first blizzard this weekend! (Read as: OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH SNOW I'M SO EXCITED)**

 **Well, please ignore me gallivanting through snowbanks as tall as me and enjoy Chapter 3 of You Don't Bring Me Flowers!**

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Chapter 3

Severus Snape stood alone in the kitchen and reasoned that he had finally done it. He had finally pushed his wife into the arms of the very man he had been jealous of. He glared angrily at the yellow flowers still lying harmlessly on the counter. Four days he had been gone, and she had probably been knocking on his door every night for comfort. He had been camping out in Hogsmeade during one of the worst blizzards Hogwarts – and maybe Britain itself – had ever seen, waiting to bring flowers back to his wife to win her over, and she could have been running to the Weasley boy the entire time.

With a strangled growl, he pulled out his wand in a fluid movement and set the flowers on fire, watching them wither and blacken on the kitchen counter. When they had burned to ash, he vanished the remains with another wave of his wand. He leaned against the counter wearily, staring at the opened fruit basket that Mrs. Weasley had sent them. He quickly levitated it and threw it against the stone wall, causing the basket to break open and apples and boxes of dried fruit and crackers to roll around on the kitchen floor.

He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he had left his wife to do something nice for her, and he had inadvertently pushed her away. So far away, that she had left their home. He slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter and turned toward the living room, throwing a silent _Reducto_ at the sofa facing the fire that was still burning brightly in the grate. The couch splintered as it exploded, raining down stuffing and wood chips on the floor. The armchair and small table went next, the former exploding like the sofa and the latter sliding across the floor to smash against the wall.

Finally, Severus himself collapsed within the rubble of his ruined living room, his wand rolling out of his hand and settling somewhere between a clump of stuffing and shredded leather and a shard of glass. He stared at the fire, willing Hermione to come back to him. He willed her to step gracefully through the Floo and embrace him, tell him that she was wrong to leave. He didn't care what it took to get her back. After spending four days without her, all he wanted was her sitting beside him on the couch or lying next to him in bed.

When he realized she wasn't coming back any time soon, he slowly stood from the ground and set the living room back to order with a swift wave of his wand. Stuffing and wood melded together to form the plush sofa and armchair again, and the remaining wood chunks reformed into the coffee table.

Once everything was in order, Severus made his way to the glass cabinet that housed the alcohol in their quarters. He was shocked to find it nearly empty, and pulled out the last handle of firewhiskey from where it sat in the back of the cabinet. As he carried it back to the sofa, he wondered to himself how his wife could have nearly finished off the alcohol in the four days that he had been gone.

Maybe she had missed him a bit more than he thought. Or maybe she had simply shared the alcohol with Weasley.

He scowled angrily and poured himself a drink to get the image of the redhead and his wife out of his head.

oOoOo

Hermione stumbled through the Floo and into the Burrow, choking on soot and the tears that she had been unable to control during her quick trip over. She collapsed onto the rug in front of the fire, burying her face into her hands and letting loose the sobs that she had been holding back.

Ron was by her side in an instant, grabbing her arm and helping her over to the sofa.

"Damn it, Hermione," the redhead growled. "What did the git do now?"

Hermione merely shook her head hopelessly as Mrs. Weasley poked her head in from the kitchen in response to the commotion.

"Hermione?" she asked, tucking the handle of her wooden spoon into her apron and approaching the sofa. Shooing Ron away to the other sofa, she sat beside Hermione and drew her into a comforting, motherly embrace. "What happened, dear?"

"Severus," was the only word she could squeak out of her tight throat. She threw her hands up and let out a despairing cry, causing Mrs. Weasley to pull her tighter against her bosom.

Ron handed her a glass of water from the kitchen and resettled on the sofa. "What did he do? Did he come back? What did he say?"

She took a grateful gulp of the water before replying. "He came back." She rubbed her red eyes wearily. "Apparently he was staying in The Three Broomsticks with Rosmerta the entire time. And he had the audacity to come back with a bloody bouquet of flowers like that made up for the whole thing!" A small sob escaped her, and she covered it with another sip of water.

"Of course he did!" Ron exploded, standing from the sofa angrily. "He's shacking up with Rosmerta, and tries to cover it with some shoddy flowers?"

" _Ron!_ " Mrs. Weasley scolded, rubbing Hermione's back soothingly at the same time. "Hermione, don't you listen to him. I'm sure Severus had a perfectly good reason for being in Hogsmeade. I've known that man since before you were born, and though we all questioned his loyalty at some point or another, he always did the right thing in the end.

"Ron, come here and comfort your friend. I'm going to get you two steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Does that sound alright, sweetie?" Hermione nodded at the woman's request and leaned into Ron's awkward side hug.

Within minutes, mugs of cocoa – heavy on the marshmallows and whipped cream – were floating toward them, a tray of biscuits following not far behind. Hermione took a few sips and nibbled on a biscuit, feeling the warmth settle into her stomach and chase away a bit of the numbness that seemed to have pervaded her soul.

"So, Hermione, tell us a bit about how your classes are going this year," Mrs. Weasley invited, and Hermione welcomed the distraction.

"They're going great, Mrs. Weasley! I've been working on new theories with my N.E.W.T. class in addition to teaching them the standard material, and they all seem to be loving it." The young professor smiled around her mug, the light returning to her honey eyes little by little. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I think I'm enjoying the class more than they are, though."

"Nobody could like class more than you, 'Mione," Ron groaned playfully from beside her. "I doubt you'll ever leave the classroom."

She pretended to hit him, but gave them both a solemn look. "That's the thing. I obviously will be teaching at the castle still, but I need – I need a place to stay at the moment. I'm not asking – I would never –"

Mrs. Weasley stood in an instant, a broad smile lighting up her face. "Oh, Hermione, you're always welcome here! I'll have Ginny's old room ready for you in just a moment!"

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief and sunk back into the sofa. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I could ever do to repay you."

"Don't even think about it, dear!" Mrs. Weasley called over her shoulder as she quickly ascended the stairs.

After a few moments of silence, Ron whistled lowly beside her. "Bloody hell. _Rosmerta._ "

This time, Hermione really did place a well-aimed jab into his side.

oOoOo

Monday had Hermione returning to work as usual. She rose extra early to attempt to help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast, although the woman pushed her forcefully out of the room and told her to just shower and ready herself – breakfast would be just fine. By the time Hermione had showered and donned her teaching robes, a full English breakfast was on the table and waiting to be devoured.

Hermione nibbled her way through an egg and a couple slices of bacon before darting up from the table and running toward the Floo. She let Mrs. Weasley plant a chaste kiss on her cheek before stepping through the Floo and into the Headmistress's office, where Minerva was waiting with a grim look. Hermione had visited the day before and informed her of the current situation.

"Good morning, Hermione," Minerva greeted with a hug. "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Minerva," the younger witch replied with a sad smile. "I don't know how I'd be able to do this without you."

Minerva put a comforting hand on her shoulder before allowing her to be on her way. Hermione hurried down the stairwell and into the halls of Hogwarts. She picked the quickest route to her familiar Transfiguration classroom and settled behind her desk to prepare for the morning's classes.

oOoOo

Severus knew he was being particularly harsh to his Potions students Monday morning, but he couldn't quite find it within him to care much. He couldn't stop thinking about Hermione leaving and not coming back. He couldn't get the image of Ronald Weasley hugging his crying wife out of his head.

He swiftly walked up behind a Hufflepuff first year and snapped – a bit louder and harsher than he had intended, " _Did the instructions_ call _for four drops of Lethe River water, Bernstein?_ " The girl dropped the entire dropper of Lethe River water into her cauldron and burst into noisy tears. Severus merely sighed in frustration and vanished the mess, grateful that the Forgetfulness Potion wasn't especially prone to explosions. "Twenty points from Hufflepuff."

When the first years shuffled out and the fourth year Gryffindors and Slytherins filed in, Severus cast an especially nasty look toward the red and gold-clad students. A blond Gryffindor whose name Severus couldn't remember was carrying his Transfiguration textbook under one robed arm.

"Does this look like Transfiguration to you?" The boy's brown eyes widened almost comically as he shook his head frantically. "Then _put it away_. Fifteen points from Gryffindor."

Severus noted the smug grins of several of his Slytherins, but he was too distracted by the sight of the Transfiguration book to give them much mind. Hermione was in the castle, even though she wasn't staying in their quarters. For a terrifying moment, he considered that she could have moved into new quarters elsewhere in the castle, but he quickly crushed the fear. She would have had to stop by to gather her clothes and belongings if she was truly moving out.

If he could only convince her to come home.

oOoOo

When she left her last class of the morning to head to the Great Hall for lunch, she was grateful to find that the corridor outside her classroom clear. The relief was short-lived, however, as she turned the corner to see him waiting for her in the entrance hall. He stepped forward as soon as he saw her approaching.

"Hermione." His voice was quiet and imploring, and she refused to let the desperation that seemed to have infused itself into the very syllables of her name touch her heart. She strode purposefully past him without even giving him a glance, leaving the Potions Master standing with one hand half-outstretched and his mouth still forming his next sentence.

She took her seat beside Minerva, and intentionally paid Severus no attention as he took his seat on the other side of her.

"How were your classes this morning?" he offered tentatively, grabbing a turkey sandwich – her favorite – and offering it to her.

"Minerva, what do you think of the concept of attempting animagus transformations in my seventh year N.E.W.T. class?" Hermione asked pointedly, turning her back on her husband, who dropped the turkey sandwich onto his own plate instead.

"Certainly a difficult concept, Hermione, but if anyone could manage it, I'm sure it would be you," the Headmistress replied with a smile, casting a glance over Hermione's shoulder at Severus.

When Hermione turned back toward her plate, she found a turkey sandwich on her plate and a note that clearly read, _Please._ She deftly moved the sandwich to the side of her plate and reached for a ham sandwich instead.

"You weren't at breakfast this morning," Severus tried again, his sandwich untouched on his plate.

Hermione looked out at students and noticed that several of them were staring at the subtle tension that was emanating from the Head Table, so she turned her face toward Severus, meeting his dark eyes.

"No, I breakfasted with the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley makes a wonderful breakfast, so I didn't think it was worth coming to the castle early and missing her cooking." Hermione's lips spread into a fake smile – certainly for the students and not for her husband – but her voice was devoid of any emotion. "Speaking of food, I don't think I have much of an appetite at the moment."

She rose from her chair and bid Minerva adieu before heading for the large double doors of the Great Hall and eventually her office.

oOoOo

Two days had passed and Severus had yet to get anything more than polite conversation out of Hermione at meals, which he knew was more a show for the students than any attempt at reconciliation with him. He had intentionally changed the route that he took down to the dungeons in hope of passing her and getting a nod, a smile, _anything._ But every time he passed her in the corridors, she lifted her head slightly and strode past him without even looking at him.

He was done with her avoiding his gaze and avoiding conversation. He was taking matters into his own hands, or at least that's what he told himself as he stood silently behind a tapestry and waited for his wife to pass. He had timed her arrival at the Great Hall for lunch every day to the minute, so he knew she was due to round the corner any moment.

Sure enough, he heard her footsteps approaching, her shoes clicking sharply against the stone floor. He waited until she was right outside the tapestry before darting his hand out and pulling her inside.

oOoOo

Hermione's steps nearly faltered as she turned the corner and saw that her husband wasn't waiting for her outside the Great Hall, as he had been for the last two days. Hoping she hadn't lost him altogether, she crossed her arms and pressed on toward the doors.

However, her stride was interrupted as she was nearly yanked sideways off of her feet. She pulled her wand quickly as she was pulled behind one of the tapestries and found its tip a mere inch from her husband's prominent nose. She frowned at him as she stowed her wand back in its holster.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, crossing her arms. "I could have hexed you."

"It would have been better than this silence," Severus answered honestly, crossing his own arms and mimicking her stance unconsciously.

"I've been talking to you," Hermione protested, even as her husband was shaking his head sadly.

"In the Great Hall when the students are watching, perhaps, but you won't even look at me when we pass in the hallway." His face shifted, softened from its usual defensive look. "Please come home, Hermione. I miss you. Actually, damn it all. Don't even come home; please just talk to me. Really talk to me. I miss your voice."

Her face, contrary to his, hardened perceptibly. "Oh, so now you want to talk to me? After these months of near-silence and merely staying out of each other's way, you want to _talk_?"

Severus looked confused. "What do you mean? We talked."

"Yes, we talked – when you were getting a cup of tea or I was letting you know that I was heading to the Burrow. We talked, but we didn't _talk_. All I wanted was for you to come home from classes, settle down next to me on the couch, and ask me how my day was, but you _never_ did that. We used to sit down and talk for hours about _anything_. Now you walk down the hall to your lab and shut yourself in there until I'm sleeping. How is that really talking, Severus?"

He sighed at the sound of his name from her mouth, the first time he had heard it in days. "What? You're blaming this on me? I thought that you wanted to be left alone! I would call your name and you would get exasperated with me or give me an irritated look, so I just figured that you wanted to be left alone. I was doing what I thought was best."

"Oh, like staying for four days with Rosmerta? Definitely seems like it was what you thought was best," Hermione said snidely.

"You're one to talk, Hermione, running off to stay with _Weasley_ as soon as I give you an excuse to. I may have trusted you, but I'm not that naïve. I did happen to be a spy for – oh, the majority of my life." His mouth twisted into a pained smile.

"Me and Ron?!" Hermione shrieked, her voice flying through several octaves. "Now you're accusing me of cheating on you with Ron? I don't even know where you get your ideas, Severus, but now I know why our marriage didn't work out."

"And why's that?" Severus asked coldly, crossing his arms across his chest again.

"Because you never truly trusted me. You were always so quick to accuse me and to get so jealous, especially when you had – _have_ – absolutely no reason to!"

"That sure seems like a bit of a double standard to me." His eyes bored into hers angrily. "I travel to Hogsmeade to pick my wife up a bouquet of flowers and I'm accused of cheating, but my wife runs off to another man's house and I'm not allowed to assume the same thing?"

"No, because you're supposed to _trust_ me!"

"You don't get to lecture me about trust when you clearly don't have any trust in me."

"Trust aside, my assumption was completely based on logic. You disappeared for four days, stayed in the inn with a notoriously flirty woman, and showed up with a bouquet of bloody flowers to show for the entire disappearance. I was very logical in my conclusion."

"I explained everything about that trip, Hermione. I can't control the biggest blizzard I've ever seen in my lifetime. This isn't logic. This is all of your emotions bleeding into your logic and skewing it."

"No, Severus." Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "I'm not having this conversation with you again."

"Won't you at least consider that I was telling the truth?" he ground out in frustration.

"We'll see. Right now, I need to consider eating lunch. And after lunch, I'll be stopping by to pick up some books from our quarters."

She threw the tapestry out of the way and headed to lunch.

oOoOo

She was getting books. She wasn't picking up all of her clothes.

And she had said _our_ quarters. That was a good sign, right?

Maybe there was hope for them yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, I apologize if you've been getting emails or thought that this chapter was up a few days ago, or today, or any time other than right now. It was supposed to be uploaded on Thursday, but FF has been freaking out, so I've just been trying to figure out what's happening. I'm so sorry if it's been an inconvenience!**

 **This is in all likelihood the second to last chapter of You Don't Bring Me Flowers. Thank you for following it and reviewing it so far, and I hope you enjoy the last two chapters!**

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Chapter 4

It had been several days since Severus had confronted Hermione in the corridors on the way to the Great Hall, and nothing had changed. Well, perhaps _something_ had changed. They had at least been acting civilly toward each other and acknowledging each other in the hallway, but beyond that, not much had changed. They still wouldn't speak aside from meals, and Severus was missing real conversation with his wife more and more with each passing day.

So Severus had finally admitted to himself that he had no idea what to do and had worked up the courage to knock on Minerva's door.

"Come in," she called from within her office, and Severus pushed the door open. "Severus? What can I do for you?"

He neglected to answer and instead collapsed into one of the comfortable chairs across from her desk.

"Severus," she prompted again, raising an expectant eyebrow.

The Potions Master sighed and looked up at her. After a moment, he painfully admitted, "Minerva, I don't know what to do."

She shuffled a pile of parchment on her desk, and leaned forward. "I see. Well, tell me your side of the story."

"It doesn't make any sense to me. We had been a little distant for a while. Hermione was always busy – as was I, certainly – but I would come home after a long day and she would all but ignore me. But I just dug into my research a little bit more and figured that perhaps we were just in a rough patch. I've heard that marriages endure that at times. I figured that we would recover because Merlin, Minerva, we've been through everything together.

"But when nothing changed as the weeks went by, I – I started to think. Hermione and the Weasley boy had always been close; they even dated for a bit after the War. It was just like Weasley to try to take everything from me, and as if I could blame Hermione for wanting someone a little . . . better."

Minerva opened her mouth to interrupt, but he quickly pressed on with his story.

"So I was jealous. But all couples get jealous. And besides, it was just a feeling; I don't think I had really believed that she could be cheating yet. But when she came in a week and a half ago to tell me she was going to the Burrow to visit Weasley and returned hours later with a massive fruit basket, I suppose I just couldn't ignore it any longer. I was going to win her back."

"Severus, you must know that Mr. Weasley would never give Hermione a fruit basket. I can assure you that it was a gift from Molly Weasley for both you and Hermione," Minerva interrupted.

Severus shook his head. "I knew who the fruit basket was from, Minerva." He ran a pale hand through greasy hair and continued. "Like I said, I was determined to win over my wife again. So one afternoon when I had finished classes, I walked to Hogsmeade to buy her a bouquet of flowers – just to let her know that I was thinking about her. It was something I used to do for her – bring back roses from Hogsmeade. I used the colors of the roses to show my feelings when I was unable to express them with words, I suppose. So I went to Hogsmeade to purchase roses since I felt like we weren't talking. Yellow for caring and jealousy, a color that I had never brought her."

Minerva gave him a long look. "And while in Hogsmeade? What happened then?"

He glared in response. "Now I know she's been speaking to you," he ground out lowly.

"Of course she has! Severus, you disappeared for four days with no warning, no note, no communication. Hermione was heartbroken, and I showed up and picked up the pieces because you weren't there." The Headmistress' eyes were hard when they met the Potions Master's.

Severus narrowed his eyes but moved on. "As I was saying before, I was _buying flowers_ for my wife in Hogsmeade when the blizzard hit. Minerva, you've been teaching here for longer than I've been alive, so you and I both know that that was the worst blizzard Hogwarts has ever seen. And Minerva, I tried everything to reach her. I was going to Floo but the Floo in The Three Broomsticks was broken, and that's the only Floo in Hogsmeade that is connected to Hogwarts, as far as I know. I would have sent an owl, but the storm was so horrid that even I could not bear to send an animal out in that weather."

"And a Patronus?" Minerva questioned innocently, leaning back in her chair. Severus' face was unreadable. "It would have traveled to the castle through the storm without a problem, at least informing Hermione that you were safe."

Severus looked like he was at a loss for words. "If I'm being honest, I – I didn't even think to send a Patronus." His head fell into his hands. "Oh Merlin, I've lost her."

"I don't think so, Severus. What happened after Hogsmeade?"

He paused a moment before continuing. "As soon as the storm cleared a bit, I headed back to the castle. Make no mistake: the storm was still horrid; I nearly lost my way. When I finally returned, the snow had soaked my robes; I had barely preserved the damn flowers by shoving them into my pocket. I came in expecting Hermione to be worried, of course, but I didn't expect her to accuse me of cheating on her. And with Rosmerta, no less. I do admit that I lost my temper then, and of course while we were arguing, Hermione stumbled and revealed that she had been drinking, so naturally I was a bit irritated by that as well. And then she ran off to the Burrow – to Weasley." Severus' scowl cut off his story. "I think you know the rest. She won't speak to me aside from at meals, still lives with Weasley, and when I confronted her and asked her to talk to me, she blew up on me."

"I think you're forgetting to mention that you accused her of cheating on you with Ron Weasley," Minerva cut in.

"Of course I did! And I don't regret it. She had no problem of accusing me of cheating of her with _Rosmerta_." His face was twisted in irritation. "And my assumption was perfectly logical. She's been close with him for years, dated him, runs to him every time we fight, currently lives with him – I think my reasons are perfectly sound. Besides, I have seen that boy cheat on every assignment he possibly could when he was here."

Minerva said nothing in response to Severus' tirade.

"You can't even provide me with a proper reason _not_ to believe she's cheating."

 _Click, click, click._ Both Severus and Minerva looked up to find a tawny owl tapping on the large, ornate window to Minerva's right. She rose with a sigh to retrieve the letter, opening it before sitting down. Severus lit the candles in the office with his wand as the Headmistress folded the parchment and stored it in a drawer of her desk.

Minerva looked up and folded her hands, taking another moment to watch Severus' scowl deepen before replying. "Severus, did you know that Ron Weasley is dating someone?"

"If you think for one moment that I think highly enough of Weasley to expect him to be faithful to his girlfriend –"

"Boyfriend," Minerva interrupted, and Severus stopped.

"Boyfriend?" The Potions Master looked puzzled.

"I would have expected you of all people to know that Mr. Malfoy has been dating Mr. Weasley for several weeks now."

"Draco hadn't told me," Severus answered quietly, still seeming befuddled. "So Weasley isn't. . ."

"No, Severus, Mr. Weasley is not romantically involved with your wife."

"And you're sure?"

"As sure as I could ever be."

Confusion quickly morphed into despair on Severus' face. " _Oh, Merlin_. Oh, I really have lost her." His head dropped. "I – what have I done?"

"You've hurt her, Severus, but don't assume that you've already lost her," Minerva murmured. "You can't avoid hurting each other sometimes, but you both need to get over your pride and talk about it."

"Believe me, Minerva, I got over my pride as soon as Hermione left. I don't care about anything but getting her back now. I can't breathe when she's not with me. I can't think without her there. She's on my mind all the time, but she won't talk to me. I _need_ her, but she hardly even acknowledges my presence anymore." Minerva could hear the pain in his voice.

"You are a fool, Severus Snape," she said bluntly, and Severus' brow furrowed in shock. "You're hurt and defensive, and you're pushing her away. You just need to be honest with her."

"I beg your pardon, but I don't really think that I'm at fault here. I'm not the one who went running off for comfort from another man as soon as we fought."

"Severus, that girl loves you more than I have ever seen anyone love another person. You light up her world. And if you would look past your infantile jealousy for one bloody moment, if you would pull your brilliant head from your arse, maybe you would notice the way that she _looks_ at you."

He laughed humorlessly. "You mean the way that she used to look at me."

"No, I mean the way that she still looks at you, Severus, like you're her entire world. You've just been too blind to see it. And I strongly advise that you drop your argument about Mr. Weasley if you know what's good for you, especially since it's a moot point. Even if he wasn't dating Mr. Malfoy, we aren't questioning his loyalty here. We're questioning your wife's, and I know for a fact – and you should too – that she would never be unfaithful to you for a single day in her entire life. So this problem isn't hers, Severus – it's yours."

Severus crossed his arms across his chest. "I accept that I've acted rashly and assumed things perhaps quicker than should have. Of course I accept that I'm not innocent in this, but none of that changes the fact that she's not speaking to me anyway, Minerva. She thinks I cheated on her too."

"And did you give her a reason to believe so?"

" _Of course I didn't!_ " he shouted, nearly spitting in his rage. He was on his feet in an instant, leaning into Minerva's face. "I tried to do one nice thing for my wife and was caught in a blizzard. I hardly think that I'm in control of the weather. I thought that I tried everything, and I admit now that I didn't even think about a Patronus, but even if I had, remember my situation. I was jealous and suspicious of my wife's loyalty. I wasn't exactly in the happy state of mind needed to conjure a Patronus."

"Then _explain_ that. Your wife is a very logical woman, and if you would stop defending yourself so much and just logically explain your side of the story, admitting that you made a mistake, maybe she wouldn't be so defensive either."

"Minerva, I would tell her anything if it would bring her back to me." His dark eyes were imploring.

"Then just be honest. She's hurt, Severus. You've hurt her badly, and she's just pushing you away to keep you from hurting her again."

"If that's what she wants, why didn't she end it? Why didn't she say good-bye and take her stuff and leave me on my own? That's what it seems like she wants to do."

Minerva's voice was quiet when she replied. "She loves you so much, Severus. You've been through so much together. Maybe she just can't figure out how."

The stern woman rose from her desk swiftly, grabbing a pinch of Floo powder and throwing it into the fire before Severus could even inquire as to what she was doing. The woman called out, " _The Burrow!_ " and within moments, his wife was standing before him and brushing bits of soot off her robes.

Hermione froze when she saw him sitting in the chair across from the Headmistress' desk.

"Sit down, Hermione," the woman instructed kindly, but when Hermione moved to lean against the window instead, her voice grew stern. "Next to Severus."

Hermione took the seat reluctantly as Minerva returned to her desk.

"I'm not a marriage counselor by any stretch of the imagination, but I can tell when two people need to talk. Now, I'm going to be in that room just around the corner to give you two a bit of privacy, but I swear to Merlin, if I hear even a single raised voice, I will sit here and make you two speak civilly as if I were in the presence of first years." She leveled them both with a steely glare before leaving the room, leaving Hermione and Severus alone for the first time since Hermione had stormed out of their quarters nearly a week ago.

They sat silently for a moment before Severus turned his chair towards hers, moving so close to her that their knees were nearly touching. Hermione looked uncomfortable.

"Severus."

"Hermione, please. Please just listen, because I don't know what else to do anymore besides explain."

Hermione sat back in the chair, still looking uncomfortable but nevertheless letting him continue.

Severus, normally stoic and composed, looked down at his hands and fidgeted his thumbs before speaking quietly. "I'm – I'm sorry, Hermione. I swear that I honestly believed that everything I did up to this point was the right thing to do. I went to Hogsmeade to buy you flowers because I thought that we were drifting apart and I wanted to fix things and somehow in the whole scheme of things, we lost ourselves and we lost each other. And I know that I'm not perfect, and I especially haven't been perfect over the past couple of weeks, but _please_ , Hermione, at least listen to me."

Although her face was still impassive, Hermione's voice shook when she replied, "Neither of us have been perfect in this. I shouldn't have left – I know I shouldn't have, but I was so hurt. I still am hurt, Severus. For four days, I didn't know where you were. I was scared that you had finally given up and left, yes, but I was terrified that you had been caught in the storm and were stranded out there alone."

"I was more worried about leaving you alone."

Hermione shook her head. "And then you showed up with some bloody flowers and some seemingly far-fetched excuse, and I just jumped to conclusions. We were drifting apart already, and I was already scared that it was – that it was ending, I suppose, and so it just all made sense in my brain. I've seen Rosmerta flirt with everyone, and you staying there for days without any contact – it was the last straw. And I couldn't bear to even look at you, so I left. I had to."

"We both acted irrationally out of hurt. Beyond that, I should have sent a Patronus. It never even crossed my mind. But even if it had, I was so miserable, Hermione. Please believe me when I tell you that I was miserable and alone down there in Hogsmeade. And when I came back, I fully expected you to be angry, but certainly not to think that I was sleeping with someone else. How could you have thought so little of me?"

" _No accusations!_ " came Minerva's stern voice from around the corner, and Severus saw Hermione truly smile for the first time in weeks. One corner of his lips turned up in response.

"I was hurt that you had even considered that possibility," Severus amended immediately. "But I'm guilty of the same sin. I apologize for questioning your faithfulness, something a good husband should never do without worthy cause. And with Weasley, no less. I truly am sorry, Hermione, and I beg your forgiveness."

"Severus, you do know that Ron is –"

"Dating Draco? Yes, I learned of it approximately ten minutes ago, courtesy of Minerva."

"What you said was uncalled for, but my accusation was as well," Hermione conceded.

Severus gave her a grim smile, and silence fell between them, broken only by the grandfather clock ticking in the corner and their breathing.

Hermione finally spoke up after a few minutes of tense silence. "We're both still hurt, Severus. And while I'm so glad that we're talking civilly, and that we're figuring out the situation, I think we still need some time to think. So, please, I just need some time. Can you give me that?"

He grabbed her hand boldly. "You can have all the time you need. I don't care if takes a week, or a month, or a year. I mean it; I won't rush you."

Hermione squeezed his hand once before returning to the fire and Flooing back to the Burrow. When she had gone, Minerva returned from the back room and sat in the chair that Hermione had been sitting in just moments before.

"What do I do now?

"Big romantic gesture, Severus. Give her a big romantic gesture."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "I thought I was supposed to give her space?"

"Yes, she needs her space. But when she comes back, you need to show her how much she means to you," Minerva explained.

"Big romantic gesture?" Severus looked skeptical.

"Big romantic gesture."

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 **Big romantic gesture? Let me know your thoughts :P**


	5. Chapter 5

**The last chapter of You Don't Bring Me Flowers! Thank you for all of the reviews and support, and I hope that you enjoy the final chapter. :)**

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Chapter 5

Hermione lie awake in her bed at the Burrow. A ball of blue fire hovered above her head, the same spell that she had used when she was eleven to set fire to Severus' robes when they had thought he was trying to kill Harry. She would have smiled at the thought of it, if perhaps the thought of Severus didn't weigh so heavily on her mind as it was. A swift flick of her wand vanished the heatless fire, and she found herself in thick darkness.

It had been a week since their conversation in Minerva's office, over two since the start of the entire debacle between the two of them. They had been civil, even more so over the past week. Severus had never pushed her or asked when she was coming home. He had honored her request for space, although he still greeted her at every meal and made small talk.

The first few days after their conversation had truly been for thinking, but the rest of the week had been purely selfish. She wanted to make him wait, partially to give him time to think about their relationship as well and partially because she wanted to see if he would truly honor her request. So far, he had, and as she stared up at the ceiling that she knew was somewhere above her in the dark, she missed him deeply. Lying in a bed that wasn't hers without him by her side bored an aching hole deep within her soul.

She got out of bed and crept down the creaking stairs to the kitchen to fix herself a strong cup of tea. She hoped that the smooth bergamot of Earl Grey would soothe her racing mind. The kettle whistled on the stove, and she poured a steaming cup and stepped out into the field behind the house, surveying the stars twinkling down on her from above, both hands wrapped around the mug to stave off the winter chill. Her eyes sought out Canis Major, the constellation she would never forget; its brightest star, Sirius, the dog star, fittingly enough – in fact the brightest star in all the sky aside from the sun – seemed to wink at her, and her mind wandered briefly to Harry's godfather. She spared a small grin for the memory of the man, lighthearted and mischievous despite the taint of twelve years' time in Azkaban.

Her eyes found Hydra next, the great water snake that stretched across the winter sky. Severus had pointed it out one January a few years ago, on a camping trip that they had taken when he was out harvesting a rare ingredient for a potion that he had been developing.

She took a sip of tea, and as the warmth settled into her stomach, so did the firm realization that she wanted to go home. Her bed would always feel too cold and empty without him. The hole in her heart would only be filled by the pleased smirk that captured his face when he made her laugh.

Something clenched in her chest at the thought of his smile, especially at the thought of someone else seeing the smile that he reserved especially for her. The smile that she hadn't seen in weeks.

Tea forgotten, she was at the fireplace in an instant, throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the flames. She stepped into Minerva's office as quietly as the whoosh of green flames would allow. The office was dark, as it should have been in the wee hours of the morning. She crept from the room and quickly strolled towards the dungeons.

By the time she reached the door to her quarters, the bells in the clock tower were striking two. She pushed the door open quietly to find a dark apartment. Severus hadn't slept well since the war, so she was genuinely surprised to find their living room absent and the grate dark and cold. She walked down the hall, but the lab was spotless and their bedroom empty, the bed lying cool and untouched in the dark room.

A cold feeling that matched the temperature of the quarters filled her stomach. A twinge of bitterness settled over her and a wave of hurt crashed down on her as she realized that he was gone. Her mind snidely whispered that this time it truly was her fault, for she had pushed him away and made him wait even when she had been the one to make the hurtful accusations of him in the first place. Because he should have been sleeping or sitting in the armchair having a drink or brewing for the Hospital Wing or anywhere but gone. Because she had lived with him for four long years and she knew that he didn't patrol on Thursdays, that he should supposed to be here. And it hurt.

She walked numbly to the living room, where he still hadn't touched the book that she had left there after their fight two weeks ago, when she foolishly accused him of cheating on her with Rosmerta when she should have known in her soul that he would never even look at another woman. The hardbound textbook sat harmlessly on the couch beside her favorite spot in the quarters – on the couch directly in front of the fire.

She trailed her fingers over the forest green cover, already accumulating dust. With a sigh, she picked it up and settled back onto the couch. Her legs curled under her as her book fell open to her bookmarked page.

oOoOo

Severus strode purposefully through halls of the dungeons, back towards his quarters. An exhaustion seemed to have settled into his very bones, and he couldn't wait to turn in for the night, perhaps after strong cup of tea or a stiff drink.

It had been a week since Hermione had told him that she needed space, and he was trying to be patient with her. He told himself that it didn't matter how long it took, as long as she came back in the end, but it was still difficult to watch her walk past him every day and treat him so differently than she had before.

Besides, a week was a long time to plan the big romantic gesture that Minerva had recommended that he put on for her, and he had certainly needed the time to think. He was far from a romantic man, and it was quite difficult for him to think of ways to win back his wife's affection, even if he had lived with her for years. A single rose? A bouquet of roses? A million red roses covering the stone floor? He was baffled.

He was just as baffled when he pushed open the door to find the lights on. His eyes fell on a bushy-haired witch curled up on the couch with a book, and the sight was so welcome to his eyes that he almost believed that he was hallucinating in his exhaustion. But Hermione was shaking slightly in restless energy, the fingers of one hand drumming on the coffee table beside the couch. It was out of character for her, and it alerted him immediately to her irritation.

The click of the door alerted her to his presence, and she turned to look at him. The book fell closed on the couch.

"You're back," Severus whispered, his hand still on the handle of the heavy door.

A deep line formed on her forehead. "I'm back? _You're_ back! Where have you been?" Severus looked surprised but remained silent. "I come back and you're gone. . . What do you think I thought?"

It was Severus' turn to furrow his brow, and he brought his hands up in a display of innocence. "One of my first years had a nightmare; she was distraught. Her dorm mates summoned me as their Head of House to calm her."

Hermione's face softened, and she immediately looked ashamed at her accusation. Her face dropped. "I'm sorry, Severus. I don't know what came over me."

"It's okay, love. We just have to be careful. We're so defensive." One corner of her lips quirked up in acknowledgement of his truth. He approached her until he was standing across the couch from her and offered half a smile. "You came back too early. I was planning something for you, but I certainly wasn't expecting you at two in the morning."

She grinned at him fully this time. "And just what did this 'something' entail?"

He looked thoughtful and moved around the couch to eliminate the barrier between them. A few more steps and he had her nearly pinned to the wall. He reached behind his back and revealed a single, perfect white rose. "Roses, for my undying love. White for reverence, for sincerity, for a love as strong as death." He winked at her. "You were supposed to receive one hundred but you caught me off guard."

She took the rose and brought it instinctually to her nose, inhaling its fresh scent. "It almost smells like it wasn't just conjured from behind your back," she replied playfully, and he pretended to look scandalized.

His face turned serious again and met her gaze levelly. "The rose wasn't the only part of the _something_ , Hermione, as you called it. The last few weeks have given me a lot of time to think.

"It seems like a lifetime ago that I found you in Diagon Alley after Weasley left you alone and heartbroken. Our relationship has been through its ups and downs. We've survived my trial, my house arrest, your insufferable Gryffindor tendencies, and – of course – my unbearable disposition. And now, we're surviving this. We've been happy with the old, but I want something new. I want to start over."

Severus knelt before her and gently held her hand in both of his. At her evident confusion, he murmured, "Marry me, Hermione." His face was free of any amusement as his eyes seemed to look into her very soul.

She snorted and attempted to pull her hand away, but he tightened his grasp slightly to prevent her from pulling away. "We're already married, Severus."

He rubbed one thumb gently over the back of her hand. "No, Hermione, marry me again. A new marriage. A marriage with no lies, no secrets, no unfounded accusations, no unannounced absences. I cannot promise that there will be no pain, nor can I promise that there will be no tears, but I can damn well promise that there will be a more loving husband waiting for you at the end of the day."

Hermione looked deeply pensive as she opened her mouth to reply. "Well. . ."

Severus stood quickly so that she was now forced to look up at him to see his face. "Wait, Hermione, don't answer me yet. I want you to truly think about your choice. Because this time, I'm all in. Every part of me. Always. And I expect the same." He brought his fingers up to caress one perfect cheek. "Hermione, it makes my day to see you here waiting for me. It takes my breath away to argue with you because I couldn't stand to lose you. I feel lower than I've ever felt in my existence when you have a problem I can't fix. My teeth clench and my chest tightens with anger to even think of you saying another man's name and touching him the way you've touched me. And if you don't feel the same way as I do – if you doubt even the slightest bit that I'm the one you want to be with for the rest of your life, then don't say yes. If you don't want to come home to me waiting for you every night – if you don't want my love – then walk out that door, and I'll let you go."

Hermione was crying now, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she twisted her fingers into his starched button up and pulled him as close to her as she possibly could. His hand left her face to tangle in her hair and pull her face against his chest as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

He took advantage of their position and whispered into her ear, "I have been a slave for my entire life, my love. A slave to my abusive father. A slave to two masters. A slave to my position in the war. A slave to a promise I made years ago to a woman who would never forgive me, much less love me. And when the war ended, I vowed to myself that I would be unfettered for the rest of my miserable life." He paused, and she reveled in the sound of his heart beating in his chest, the soft susurration of his breath beneath her ear letting her know that she was finally in his arms again.

"But Hermione, somehow I have found myself a slave to you." She flattened her palms against his crinkled shirt and attempted to push away from his chest to protest, but he continued, "I am a slave to you, but if you handed me the keys to my shackles, if you even removed the chains from my feet, I would only use the freedom to run right back to you. And if you let the fetters fall away from my wrists, I would do nothing but hold your hand," – he laced their fingers together between them with a deep look – "touch you, and hold you to me for the rest of my days."

When Hermione shuffled back a step to look up at his face, his eyes were suspiciously moist, and she raised her free hand to rest it against the side of his cheek. He leaned into the touch slightly and sighed, never breaking eye contact.

"Severus," she whispered, her voice so soft that it was barely more than a sigh, a brush of breath against his skin. "I've been afraid of so many things, but I have never feared anything nearly as much as I feared losing you. Merlin, Severus, you're my entire world, and without you I have no reason to continue breathing. You're the breath in my lungs. You're my air, and without you I feel like I'm choking all the time.

"You've been my everything for so long. You've _taught_ me everything. You taught me to control my tongue when I was in school, before I truly knew you." She trailed a finger along the line of his collar. "And without even knowing it, you taught me what it means to be brave when it seems impossible." Her finger continued to trace the line of buttons up and down his shirt. "You taught me how to be strong when I nearly lost myself after Ron left. You taught me how to face my own flaws as well as the flaws of others."

He brought her wandering hand up to his mouth and kissed it, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. "You have taught me the same, in addition to much more, Hermione. You have taught me the meaning of love when I thought it was forever lost to me. And you have given me a reason for living. Never doubt your importance to me."

"Then yes," Hermione breathed, and she reached up to pull his head down so that his forehead rested gently against hers. "Yes today, yes tomorrow, and yes every day for the rest of our lives if you'll have me."

Dark eyes softened with relief and adoration at her words. She met his gaze easily and felt his warm breath tickle her skin as he affirmed, "Always."

He bent his head to close the remaining space between them, and her blinding smile was swallowed by a pair of thin lips that were suddenly molded to her own. She reached one hand up to tangle in his lank hair – the other gripping a handful of shirt at his side – and responded fervently.

His tongue swiped playfully at her bottom lip, and she suddenly found herself pressed firmly against the wall of their living room, the stones cool against her back from the still-unlit fireplace. She smiled into the kiss and squirmed slightly against him as he gently tugged her hand away from his shirt and held it in his own, his long fingers lingering on the warm white gold band of her wedding ring that bound her to him for eternity.

She linked their fingers instinctively, delighted to see a side of the man that she hadn't seen in years – not since the trial had placed a heavy burden on their shoulders and perhaps even a doubt in Severus' heart that she could truly love him in light of his sins. She squeezed his hand tightly and arched into him, hoping to convey to him that she was his as long as he wanted her.

He seemed to get the message, for as he broke the kiss to lean down and nip at the soft skin of her neck, he softly growled, "Mine."

And she was. Now and forever. Always.

"Severus?" she asked breathlessly as he swiped his tongue across her collarbone.

"Hmm?" he acknowledged absentmindedly.

"I might take you up on those one hundred roses later."

* * *

 **Big romantic gesture blew up slightly, but I liked this better. :P What did you think?**


End file.
